


Christmas Past

by ML_is_me



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pre-Season/Series 07, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-29
Updated: 2005-12-29
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ML_is_me/pseuds/ML_is_me
Summary: none





	Christmas Past

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** For the BtS Secret Santa Challenge, and with best wishes to  
>  Donna, whose stories always delight me!  
> =====  
> "In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of  
> holidays."  
> -Dylan Thomas, "A Child's Christmas in Wales"  
> 

  
Author's notes: For the BtS Secret Santa Challenge, and with best wishes to  
Donna, whose stories always delight me!  
=====  
"In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of  
holidays."  
-Dylan Thomas, "A Child's Christmas in Wales"  


* * *

December 28, 2005  
Christmas Past  
by ML 

She has never considered herself a sentimental person, but Christmas always brings it out in her. More to the point, Christmas is the only time she indulges herself. 

She unpacks the box carefully, mindful of its age and fragility. She knows she could pack all of its contents in a plastic container, but part of the charm is this old box, one she remembers from her parents' garage time out of mind. The years are catalogued on it, scratched out and renewed, sometimes listing new contents, sometimes not. She pulls off the first layer of bubble wrap carefully and surveys what's there. 

Right on top is the oldest item: a box of "Shiny-Brite" ornaments from her childhood. She knows that Bill and Charlie have similar ones to share with their families. She wonders briefly, sadly, what happened to Melissa's. 

She lays them carefully aside. In deference to their age, she will not put them on her tree, but she will display them under it, a tangible reminder of days gone by. 

They used to vie for the privilege of putting the first ornament on the tree. There was a strict protocol, decreed by their father but enforced by their mother if he wasn't there. One put the first ornament up; another got to put the "special" ornament, a large stylized swan with a feathered tail. One helped Mom put up the Elf Village, though that was more fun for Charlie and Melissa than Dana or Bill. Bill didn't have the patience to set the little figures just so, and Dana wasn't interested in elves. Melissa took forever, always making up a story to go with the tableau. 

The final honor was to be the one to "present" the finished tree. Once the last ornament was hung, everyone had to troop into the kitchen and shut the door. They waited until they heard the Christmas music turned up from the stereo (Melissa always chose The Nutcracker, Bill and Charlie always chose some pop song), and then they returned, Mom first. They ooh'd and ahh'd over the tree, the only light in the living room, and then they had hot chocolate with a peppermint stick in it. 

One year, when it was Bill's turn, his preparation for the ceremony seemed to take forever. Dana, Melissa, and Charlie snickered that he must have blown a fuse or knocked over the tree when they heard his urgent "Mom!" from the living room. 

A few more long minutes passed and the three siblings dared each other to peek around the edge of the kitchen door to see what was going on. 

Then Mom's voice called them to come back into the living room \-- and there was Dad, home early from his deployment. Charlie declared that it was "the best Christmas ever" on the spot, but looking back, she could say that about any Christmas growing up. Every one of them was the best in its own way, until the next one came along. 

The smile as she places the box carefully under the tree is bittersweet. No more "best Christmas ever" for the Scully family. At least, not in the widely understood meaning of the term. The remaining members can and do get together, and they have fun, but the ghosts of Christmas past are always there. 

She smiles as her hand encounters a familiar tissue-wrapped object. It's an empty bottle of Old Spice, still slightly scented. She closes her eyes. No matter how much time passes, the scent will always remind her of Ahab. 

With a few tears, she recalls the last Christmas her father was alive. She'd been so proud of her new job, her apartment, the pretty tree and the dinner she'd made for her parents. The boys had both been deployed, Melissa was off on her own, and she had her parents to herself. The following year she hadn't put up a tree at all, and every year now she remembers his teasing about leaving the tree up past Christmas Day. 

She lifts a small square tissue-wrapped object out of the box but doesn't unwrap it. She knows what it is. Emily, the gift she hadn't known she wanted until she found her. 

No tears fall from her eyes this time. Her family has very different memories of that year, and she chooses to dwell on the miracle of her nephew, Matthew, as well. She keeps that pain to herself. It will always be hers to bear alone. 

Perhaps not entirely alone. Laying Emily's photo carefully back in the box, she picks up another object. Once unwrapped, she flips the tiny switch on the underside and the Grinch's green face glows at her. 

"It was the closest thing to an alien head I could find," Mulder had explained when he gave it to her on the most bizarre Christmas she's ever experienced. "Besides, I think the case could be made that he _is_ alien." 

"But I thought you said Reticulans were gray, not green," she'd countered. 

"Not all aliens are Reticulans," he'd replied. They'd argued back and forth until Mulder had unexpectedly kissed her. Not long after that, she'd reluctantly left for her mother's house, where the day had passed in a blur of fatigue and longing. 

Is that the "best Christmas ever" in her adult life? Maybe not, but it is definitely in the running. 

Evidently Mulder had decided that kissing her was meant to be an annual event, since the next time he'd even attempted it was the following year. 

Ah well. Water under the bridge, as Ahab would say. She smiles to herself as she places Mr. Grinch in a prominent place on the tree. 

Lounging in the doorway of her kitchen, Mulder watches as Scully removes and then replaces each precious object in the cardboard box. He's never witnessed this before, but he can tell that it's a ritual that Scully has performed many times in the past. 

He notes her tears and her smiles, and wonders about the events that cause them. Some he can guess at, but he'd like to hear about them from her. He has long wanted to know everything about her, to share her tears as well as her laughter. Little by little, she is letting him. But he wants her to do it on her own terms, not because she's forced into it. He turns quietly back into the kitchen and calls out to announce his presence. 

"Hey Scully, ready for some eggnog?" 

"I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost," she says, carefully folding the flaps of the precious box closed and coming over to meet him. 

He hands her a glass and gives her a kiss. He gestures with his free hand. "What's in the box?" 

She looks at the box for a long moment, and he thinks that she's not ready to share this with him yet. Then she turns to him and says, "Christmas past. Would you like to see?" 

Mulder nods. "If you'd like to show me, I would." 

She leads him over to the tree and they sit side by side as Scully opens the box. 

~end~ 

The best Christmas ever? The best Christmases are a mixed bag of joys and sorrows. The joy is out there. You just have to know where to look. May all of your Christmases be the best ever. 

#### If you enjoyed this story, please feed the author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Title: **Christmas Past**  
Author: ML  
Details: 6k  ·  PG  ·  Standalone  ·  12/29/05  ·   Email/Website      
Gossamer Category(Keywords): Vignette   [UST, Friendship]     
Characters: Mulder/Scully     
Pairings: Mulder/Scully friendship   
SPOILERS: Seasons 1-7   
SUMMARY: none 


End file.
